Dan Garrett entered the doors of the dimly lit Star Cruiser. To his left, a brawl had broken out in the corner, and two men seated at a nearby table were taking bets on the winner. To Garrett's right, a group of inebriated coworkers were starting the next game of "Bounty".
         "Hey, Garrett, come on over. You wanna get in on this? We've got room for one more." James Cleary had a stupid grin plastered on his face and eyes at half-mast. Four others in the same condition were poured into their chairs around the game table, full mugs of ale within easy reach. One of them absently shuffled a deck of cards while the others had already positioned their pawns on the holograph game board.
         "Not tonight, Cleary. I'm looking for Banner. You seen 'im around?"
         "Yeah, not more than thirty minutes ago," Cleary answered.
         "Ee's 'ere...somewhere," one of the other men spoke up. "Lucky devil had two blondies hangin' on 'im." The man grinned, and then added, "Both of 'em clinging to 'im like shateries." With that, the men at the table burst into a round of raucous laughter. It seemed that the shateri was always the brunt of someone's joke. The small fur-bearing animal, found along the southern coastline of Terra Four's main continent, was not only known for its luxurious fur but was also notorious for its enthusiasm for procreation.
         Garrett couldn't help but grin; their laughter was contagious. "Thanks, fellas. If you happen to see him again, tell him I'm looking for him."
         Dan Garrett continued making his way through the crowd, his eyes intently sifting through a murky sea of smoke and faces. Finally he climbed a set of wide stairs that led to a mezzanine from which he could survey the entire main floor. The mezzanine was an extension of the bar, a balcony furnished with tables and chairs that completely encircled the room.
         Garrett found an empty table near the balustrade, claimed it, and began methodically scanning the entire main level from his perch. Behind him several drunk and boisterous crewmen were engaged in singing a bawdy song. All around, people were drinking and laughing, either burying their fears and troubles or celebrating their good fortune.
         Banner, who seemed to rarely have fears or troubles to bury, was drinking to his luck when Garrett's eyes finally locked onto him. Seated at a game table on the opposite side of the room, and true to form, Nick Banner was casually sprawled in his chair. All six-foot-four of him. From the smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth and the stack of game chips at his elbow, there was little doubt who was winning.
         There was an unconscious grace about Nick Banner. He always seemed to turn heads. In all honesty, Garrett was envious of Banner's magnetism and innate ability to attract women. Though they were traits he yearned to possess himself, he had resigned himself long ago to the fact that he simply didn't have it and never would.
         Even the faded, scarred leathers that Banner wore would have looked shoddy on anyone else. But with his dark hair and hard, lean body the well-worn attire lent a primitively appealing air of danger.
         Reaching for his mug of ale, Nick laid the winning cards on the table. He liked winning, but cleaning up on a table of drunken comrades wasn't much of a challenge, not to mention that it grated on his sense of fair play. It was time to call it quits. "Gentlemen, I believe this completes the game, and it looks like I win." He grinned and added, "Again."
         A stunning brunette now stood at his back, both hands draped possessively over his shoulders as though she might lose him to another should she dare to let go. Leaning down, she whispered something in his ear that brought forth a crooked grin as he downed his last swallow of brew.
         "Fellas, what can I say? I hate to win and run, but worse yet, I hate keeping a lady waiting. Here," he said, separating half of his winnings and tossing the coins back onto the table. "The drinks are on me." With that, the table burst into a round of boisterous cheers and Nick rose to escort his luscious companion to the nearest exit.
         He no sooner began guiding her with a hand at the small of her back when... "Hey Nick! Wait up!"
         Banner turned to see Dan Garrett elbowing his way through the crowd.
         "Garrett, what's up?"
         "Loring wants to see you."
         "Sure. Tell him I'll drop by first thing in the morning." He turned and resumed guiding his companion toward the exit.
         "Nick. He means to see you. Now."
         Groaning inwardly, Nick stopped short, turning to Garrett in exasperation. "And it just can't wait until tomorrow."
         It was clear, from the look on Garrett's face that he was painfully aware of his ill timing. "Sorry Nick, but no. I wish I could tell you what it's all about, but I'd wager it's important."
         With a heavy sigh of regret, Nick turned to the girl. Tightening his hold on her, he drew her near. "Baby..." he began, capturing her chin in a hold that was possessive, and yet gentle.
         "Shali," she corrected, "my name's Shali."
         Nick grinned. "Shali." Nuzzling against her ear he whispered something that brought an instant flush to her cheeks. Whatever he'd said was then thoroughly punctuated with a lusty kiss.
         At last he turned to Garrett. "Let's get out of here 'fore I change my mind."
         A landcraft waited outside the Star Cruiser for the 30-minute ride from Port Ireland to the headquarters of LorTech Equipment. The sleek, low-slung vehicle was a sporty two-seater model. Her shiny black exterior said she was new; the logo on her doors said she belonged to LorTech.
         "Well, I see Jonathan finally broke down and replaced a few of those tired vehicles. How long have you had this?" Nick asked, running an appreciative eye over the smart new rig.
         "About three months now." Garrett answered, fishing a remote from his pocket and entering a code. In response, both doors disengaged and slid silently backward to disappear into the rear quarter panel on each side.
         Emitting a low whistle, Nick climbed in and continued his appraisal from the inside. The complex dash was a mini cockpit, loaded with options ranging from a host of digital readouts to a small rear display monitor. "Nice," he drawled approvingly as the control console snapped to life the instant Garrett's weight settled into the driver's seat.
         Owned by Jonathan Loring, LorTech was a fast-growing research equipment company presently booming with a recent contract to supply equipment to Echo, a small and relatively unexplored rim world.
         It was nighttime, and traffic was heavy at first, but thinned progressively the farther they traveled from the city. Soon the landcraft picked up speed and the landscape began whisking by in a blur. Patting his pockets, Nick found a thin cigar and lit it. Both men remained silent, each deep in his own thoughts.
         The environment was particularly dreary, consisting mainly of processing plants and warehouses. Then the scenery gradually changed. The buildings became taller and seemed to stretch farther apart. Some had tanks attached to them. Others had pipes that ran from one building to the next. Eerie puffs of vapor rose from their stacks, illuminated by the surrounding floodlights.
         Terra Four was a Class E planet, located within the Sector Five System. Its distance from Earth measured in time was roughly six weeks. Before Stellardrive, it had taken years to reach the Sector Five System.
         First discovered around the turn of the century by an unmanned probe during Earth's so called "Race For Space" era, Terra Four was the fourth of five planets that were named for their likeness to Earth. Colonization didn't occur, however, until almost thirty-five years later.
         The first settlement formed was a tiny mining colony, Port New America, nestled high in the Cascades, Terra Four's northernmost mountains. Eventually more colonists arrived; more settlements sprouted up, and with them various forms of livelihood developed. Ultimately, through economic evolution many small mining towns combined to create thriving cities. Port Ireland grew to become the largest and most advanced city on Terra Four.
         Pulling up to LorTech's outside gates, Garrett flashed the required credentials to the guard and they were waived on through. As Nick palmed the security lock at the main entrance to the massive complex, a hidden scanner began crosschecking his palm print, retinal and voice patterns with his stated identity. "Come on...come on," he muttered, releasing an impatient sigh as they waited. As if prompted by his impatience a green light snapped to life on a small panel and the lock on the door clicked open. Nick wasted no time barging through. Garrett followed at his heels, trying to keep up with Banner's lengthy stride.
         Taking the steps three at a time, Nick hastily made his way up a flight of stairs and down a long carpeted hallway until they finally came to a door with JONATHAN T. LORING, PRESIDENT, inscribed on it.
         "Hi Lizzy," he muttered, striding through the reception area toward the inner office.
         "Nick! Jonathan's been-- Wait! I'll let him know you're--"
         "It's okay darlin', I know my way in."
         "But--"
         Skipping the formalities of presentation, Nick hit the pressure-plate and barged-in as the door opened into Jonathan's spacious office.
         Loring's back was turned as he stood before a floor to ceiling glass wall overlooking the compound.
         "Ah, Nick!" he said, whirling around. "Thank God he found you."
         "Yeah. Your timing's impeccable."
         "Have a seat. Please," Jonathan said, indicating one of the two leather chairs in front his imported desk. At the same time he turned to Garrett, thanking and perfunctorily dismissing him.
         Nick sank into a comfortable chair, resting one booted foot across the opposite thigh. "So, what's up?"
         Taking his seat, Jonathan lifted an envelope off his desk and wordlessly handed it to Nick.
         Accepting the note, Nick held eye contact with his friend, assessing the indisputable mixture of terror and anger in the man's eyes. At last he withdrew the note from its envelope and began reading.
         Mr. Loring, I overheard part of a conversation that could cost my life as well as those in my family. For that reason, I choose not to reveal myself, but I want you to know that your daughter's life may be in danger. I wish I had heard more, but I strongly suspect "The Leader" is behind this.
         Without comment, Nick casually withdrew a slender brown cigar, lit it, and blew a lazy stream of smoke toward the ceiling where it was instantly ushered into the nearest vent. "I seem to be missing a few lines here, Jon. Maybe you'd better take this from the top. And who the devil's The Leader?"
         Staring at Nick with blank eyes, Loring began. "That's just it; I'm not sure. There are several possibilities. Rumor has it there are at least two mega-corps that want total possession of Echo."
         Maintaining eye contact with Loring, Nick took a slow drag from his cigar. "Just exactly who are these supposed corporations?"
         Loring hesitated. "Hell, it's a rumor, Nick. Your guess is as good as mine."
         "Then guess, dammit!"
         A long moment of silence passed before Loring reluctantly offered a name. "Frontier Enterprises could be one."
         "And?"
         "These are just guesses, Nick. There's no way of--"
         "And?" he persisted.
         "Possibly...Chase Explorations."
         Nick examined his cigar intently, deep in thought as he watched smoke curl off the tip. "Chase Explorations," he mused. "Aren't they based out of Paragon?" What the devil are they doing clear out here, messin' around with a small rim world like Echo?"
         "Howard Chase has become greedy over the years." Loring explained, dragging his hand through his thick hair. "His company has grown, but at the expense of others."
         "So you figure Chase is The Leader?"
         Loring shrugged. "It's possible. They've certainly managed to cut down most everyone in their way. It's known they want control of Echo, and LorTech is one of the few left in their path."
         "Making you their target now. Right?" Not waiting for an answer, Nick lifted the note for emphasis. "Does she know about this?"
         "Hell no. And that's the way it stays...at least until I can get her out of here. Knowing Tressa, she would refuse to leave."
         Reading the note over again, Nick stuck the cigar between his teeth, wincing against the smoke trailing up into his eyes. "So, I take it you have a plan?"
         Jonathan dragged in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Nick," he began, "I want you to take Tressa off-planet for me. Surely you know of some place where she will be safe until we find out what the hell this is all about."
         One dark brow arched. "Me? It's a bit out of my line, wouldn't you say? Sounds like you need a hired gun. Not some randy cargo pilot traipsing all over the galaxy trying to find a safe place to stash--"
         "And since when didn't you fit that bill? Dammit, Nick, you're a hell of a lot more than just a cargo pilot and we both know it.
         "Besides," he added, "I don't need a hired gun. I'm not asking you to assassinate anyone. All I'm asking is that you get my daughter out of here until we can get to the bottom of this." Loring's voice eased off, betraying the depth of his feelings. "Believe me, if I thought there was anyone else..." He left the sentence hanging.
         Nick calmly leaned forward, depositing a lump of ash into the ashtray on Loring's desk. "I'm not sure I'm your man for this, Jon," he said quietly. "Besides, I still have two deliveries yet to make. I can't just take off."
         "I understand your position, Nick. Go ahead and make those deliveries. She wouldn't be a problem. I just need her out of here."
         Nick tensed, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Glancing away, he smiled in polite restraint. "We're talking about a chunk of time here, Jon," he said, turning back. "You aware of that?"
         Three hellishly long weeks, a silent voice stressed...
         A frown creased Loring's brow and his gaze darkened as he slowly rose and moved from behind his desk. There was no misreading the grim look on his face as he came around to settle hip-shot upon the front corner of his desk. "Make no mistake," he began slowly, his tone laden with warning. "I know full well what I'm asking of you. Just as you do."
         Loring's grave expression eased. "Besides, you seem to forget, I've always seen more in you than you see in yourself. If I didn't, believe me, I'd never entrust Tressie into your care for even so much as a single minute."
         For a long span of silence Nick stared at the smoke trailing up from his cigar.
         "Dammit, Nick, it's my daughter!"
         "And I'm telling you, you've got the wrong man." With his beautiful daughter, Loring didn't know how wrong.
         "There is no one else. You're the only one I trust. Besides your word that you'll protect her…it might help to know that she's already spoken for.
         Nick's eyes lifted to meet Loring's. "Oh yeah? Anyone I know?"
         "He's new around here. Name's Sinclair. Look, I'm not saying it would be easy. You'll need to let her know whose boss right from the start. After that, she'll settle right in for you.
         "Oh, and those rumor's you've probably heard," he added, "Tressa has not inherited her mother's gift. Thank God."
         Nick shot him a puzzled look but said nothing. It had been eight years since he had first walked through the doors of LorTech Equipment. Tressa was just a kid then.
         With her being away at school most of the time, their initial introduction had never progressed much beyond a nodding acquaintance. It had only been in the last six months that he remembered seeing more of her around the complex. She had definitely grown up. And her personality had changed from giggly to politely aloof.
         He had heard of Jonathan's desire for Tressa to work at his side, so whether her aloof indifference was due to shyness, conceit or professionalism, it was hard to tell. At any rate, he had never lost sleep over it. Spoken for or not, she was Loring's daughter and that made her off limits--even if he were interested. Which he wasn't.
         Now here he was, doomed to baby-sit this spoiled, liberated woman/child for how ever long it took. Worse yet, he would have to still be on speaking terms with her by the time they arrived at their destination--wherever the hell that was.
         "Well?" Jonathan asked with an edge of desperation.
         Doubt laced with irritation coursed through Nick. Leaning back, he unconsciously studied Loring, wishing like hell he could come up with some alternative. At last he released a compressed sigh. "So, when do we leave?"
         Relief flooded Loring's face. "You'll do it then?"
         "Under the circumstances I don't have a hell of a choice. I'll take her to Acacia. It's roughly a three-week voyage from here. That should buy you a little time. Delta will enjoy the company, and after I see Tressa safe, I'll do what I can to help."
         "I'm thinking that it might not hurt for you to stay off-planet for a while yourself. If that electro blade had gone much deeper..."
         Nick's entire left side still ached, a pain he had successfully been ignoring until Jon brought up the subject. For a brief moment he reflected on the night he'd been attacked. He had just finished loading a shipment into the hold. Turning to key-in the security, he had detected movement in the shadows and a glint off something metallic. He vaguely remembered whirling to ward off the attack, but too late to evade the thrust. Gut-wrenching pain began in his lower back and ripped up his side as he went down.
         In that clouded moment, he had recognized one man. His ex-partner, Quint Kendyl.
         The pain kept him semiconscious as he lay facedown on the scarred surface of the landing zone. And although he had been unable to distinguish little more than the grating edge of voices, there was no doubting the distinctive boots of the man who stood before him. "Kendyl" was the last thought that registered as he slipped into unconsciousness.
         "Are you listening to what I'm saying?" Loring broke in.
         Without comment Nick leaned forward to deposit another lump of ash into the ashtray.
         "I was saying... that if--" "Yeah, I heard you," Nick mumbled, shoving the cigar between his teeth. "I'll deal with it in my own way, Jon. I won't hide, if that's what you're suggesting."
         Silence passed as Nick contemplated the plan. "I'm going to be up-front with you. No matter how careful we are, there's no guarantee that Acacia's going to be a safe haven. It's not common knowledge I'm from Acacia, but if someone gets to nosing around, it's on the security records. You have no way of knowing how big this operation is, or who's watching who."
         "I'm aware of that." Jonathan relaxed. "Look, I know this won't be easy, but I'll see to it you won't regret it. I assure you there will be a double bonus in it for you." A smile tipped the corners of his mouth. "I'll even double your high-risk credits on this one."
         "I'm not doing it for the bonus, Jonathan. Besides, you couldn't afford it, even if I were. And as far as regret is concerned," he grimly added..."I started regretting, the minute I heard Garrett's voice." He fought down the mental image of Shali.
         Ignoring Nick's cynicism, Jonathan continued, "Now I figure if you come back to the place with me, we can work out the details on the way. Then we can bring Tressie on back with us. Besides, I know Mary's going to want to meet you. Hell, she'll probably want to speak privately with you."
         Great. Nick nearly groaned aloud "That ought to be real interesting. I just got into port, Jon. Look at me. I'm not only beat, I'm half-crocked."
         Questioning his own sanity, Nick rubbed the back of his neck and tried to sort through his feelings. Having hit port three hours ago from a five-week run, he had spent the first hour and a half overseeing, as well as assisting in the unloading of cargo off his ship. He was tired, and the way he figured it, he should be getting drunk, counting his winnings and getting laid, in roughly that order.
         Though past experience had taught Loring that Nick Banner was a man of his word, he looked at him for the first time since he had entered his office. Unshaven; worn leathers; his hair in serious need of a cut; he grimly admitted that Nick Banner looked every bit the rogue. Jonathan was certain Mary would not approve of Tressa leaving with him. In fact, he was tempted to question the wisdom of the plan himself.
         Nick's eyebrow arched knowingly. "Second thoughts?"
         "I haven't got time for second thoughts! I'll go on back and square things away at home. You, on the other hand, have exactly two hours to make yourself presentable. We'll meet you back at the Victorious at that time."
         Swinging his feet down, Nick stood, crushed out his cigar and headed for the door. "You're the only one I'd do this for," he said, pausing briefly at the threshold.
         "Yes, I realize I've called in my markers on this one, Nick."
         "Damn right you have."

Nick the Tease

         Without so much as turning to address her, Nick's satin baritone calmly broke the silence. "It's a damned good thing we don't have any more days left on this run. With your lengthy showers everyday you've managed to put our more-than-sufficient water supply into the red."
         "I have not been taking lengthy showers. For your information, I've been very conservative."
         Nick smiled. "Yeah, well, we've got a flashing indicator here that says differently."
         Tressa cast a glance at the console, then made her way to her seat. "I can assure you that's not my fault."
         "No of course it's not. It's TiMar's." Reaching overhead, he flipped a series of switches and waited for a cluster of lights to turn green.
         "It appears to me," Tressa said as she settled into her chair, "that once again your immaturity is at fault."
         "Is that right." He continued monitoring the controls.
         "Yes, did you ever stop to think that the cause of the low water supply might be all those cold showers you keep taking?" The instant the words were out Tressa regretted them.
         His head came around with a slow, dangerous grin and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, she was about to be had for lunch.
         "You think that's what I've been doing in there?"
         With heat scorching her cheeks, Tressa looked away, refusing to respond. Taking a cold shower is probably the least of your busy little activities behind a closed door.
         "Tressa? I asked if that's what you--"
         "I really don't care what you do, Banner." Glancing down, she feigned sudden interest in her fingernails.
         "Ah, but you've wondered, haven't you?"
         She ignored him. There's nothing to wonder about, fly boy. Everyone knows how little boys entertain themselves in private.
         "Haven't you, Tressa?" he taunted. "You had it all figured out."
         She slid him a retiring look.
         He grinned. "Besides, why the devil would I be taking cold showers?"
         Refusing to rise to the bait, Tressa began examining one particular fingernail with avid interest. "I couldn't care less," she mumbled beneath her breath.
         "What was that? You say something?"
         Without looking up she replied. "The low water supply is just another classic example."
         "Of what?"
         "Your lack of self-control, of course."
         Silence.
         You just can't leave well enough alone, can you?
         Tressa didn't dare look at him. He was spoiling for a fight and she had just delivered the first punch.
         And if you don't stop, you're going to find yourself out-gunned on a subject you'll wish to stars you hadn't opened.
         "Y' wanna know what I was really doin', Irish?"
         Feigning boredom, she turned her sights to the small port window. "No thanks, Banner, you can keep the details to yourself."
         "Allow me to satisfy your curiosity by enlightening you on several ways in which a--"
         "I'm not interested."
         "But I'd be happy to educate you on some of the--"
         "How much longer before we get there, do you think?" she asked, releasing a heavy sigh.
         Satisfied and grinning, Nick turned back to the control panel. "Never challenge me, Irish-directly or by implication--and particularly on a subject you know so precious little about. You'll lose every time. I guarantee it.
         Tressa remained silent, at last heeding the silent voice of reason.
         Several long moments passed before he finally answered, "We'll arrive in roughly seven hours. Have your stuff ready."
         "It's ready now."
         "Excellent."
         Although the onboard computer had already transmitted the necessary information to the spaceport, Nick opened the COMLINK for a verbal reentry vector. Tressa listened. It was different this time for her. Now she understood much of what he was doing.
         The closer they got to Acacia, the larger the swirly blue and green planet became on the view screen until it filled the screen entirely.
         The comset buzzed and a voice announced, "Please initiate your descent."
         "Understood," Nick replied and assumed control from the ship's computer as the Victorious began entering Acacia's uppermost atmosphere.
         Plunging down through the multi-layers of a planet's firmament was a gripping experience at best--particularly for someone like Tressa who wasn't used to such encounters. Just as she had when they landed on Shaiel, she watched in fascination as the tip and leading edge of the wing began glowing like a fanned ember. Within seconds the entire wing was engulfed in flames that ended in long tongues of fire dancing off the back edge. More flames lapped across the exterior of the viewport, casting an eerie glow within the cabin. Nick had explained on their previous stop that it was all part of the process of reentry.
         Though Nick may have long since become accustomed to the firestorm raging outside, for Tressa, it was both frightening and awesome all at the same time.
         Gradually the darkness of space gave way to the illumination of Acacia's atmosphere. Glancing up at the overhead vid screen she saw the distinct line of demarcation between darkness and daylight tracking across the center of the planet.
         "Hang on," Nick said, "It's going to get a little rough. The computer's registering high winds up ahead."
         When it came to tricky landings Nick Banner preferred doing it personally. Nothing against computers, but to Nick's way of thinking, humans have an ingrained ability to sense things and guess how to handle the situation. Many years ago, they called it "flying by the seat of your pants."
         The ship veered off course as a gust of wind came out of nowhere. Nick tapped in the correction, then swore under his breath when, moments later, the wind suddenly fell off requiring yet another correction.
         Tressa quietly watched as he fought his way down through the various layers of unsettled air. Eventually he cut the speed; felt the response, booted the nose up and goosed the thrusters to slow their descent.
         A vast blue ocean spread out beneath them for as far as Tressa could see. Soon they were skimming over a flat plain. A range of mountains stood beyond. At regular intervals a soft chime would sound, signaling designated drops in elevation.
         "That settlement up ahead is Imperial, Acacia's capitol." Nick said, drawing her attention to the master screen.
         It wasn't long before he was killing the ship's forward motion and firing the reverse thrusters. Next came the sound of the proximity alarm as the ground rose up to meet them. With a gentle thump, the Victorious settled onto her jacks as the whine of her powerful turbines continued descending.
         The comset chimed and Nick reached overhead to flick it on. "Banner, here."
         "Well, ain't seen your handsome face around here in a long while. What brings you home, darlin'?" The voice and image belonged to a heavy-set woman with brassy blonde hair and laugh lines framing her eyes.
         "Shara. Good to see you again. I'm here on business, so I'll only be staying a day or two at the most."
         "Hun, you know what to do. The robosphere should be pulling up in front of you any moment now. Then, darlin' if you can spare a moment, stop by the Outbounder. Dinner's on me and you can tell me all that's been going on over the past few months."
         "Sounds good to me..."
         "Would you like me to let Glori know you're in, or are you planning on surprising her yourself?"
         Nick cleared his throat. "Shara, I won't have time to see Glorianna this trip. It's best if you don't say anything about me being here, okay?"
         Shara raised a curious brow. "Whatever you say, hun, but you'd better plan on keeping a low profile while you're in port. I'm not the only source of information around here, you know. I'll see ya later tonight then?"
         "You got it." Disregarding the look of puzzlement on Shara's face, Nick switched back to the exterior vid. As promised, the large robosphere had appeared and was waiting for them with the words "FOLLOW" flashing in bright neon. Nick fired the thrusters, lifted the ship off the scarred surface and slowly advanced toward the sphere. The robotic drone drifted left and the Victorious trailed behind.
         Tressa watched in fascination as jets of air from the thrusters sent rooster tails of dust high into the air about them. From the gray out-buildings nestled at one end of the port to the freighter sitting out on the L.Z., Tressa took in every detail.
         Suddenly the robosphere came to a stop and Nick followed suit, noting that the surface had given way to an enormous durasteel quarterdeck. Once again, he lowered the Victorious onto the decking.

Excerpt from the Love Scene

         When the first satiny bow fell open, Nick's lips were right there, searing a sensuous path down her throat to the newly exposed flesh.
         A brief instant of panic flashed in Tressa's mind. "Nick," she breathed, "what if someone should come looking for us?"
         She felt something suspiciously close to a smile pressed to the base of her throat. "No one's going to come looking for us, Tressa."
         A second bow collapsed and then a third, the gown opening wider with each conquest.
         "But Clint--"
         "Isn't stupid. He won't intrude," Nick muttered against her heated flesh.
         "But--"
         "All right, Tress," came his groan of resignation. "For you." With that, he leaned around and, with a lazy motion, flipped a small control switch on the nightstand. The electronic sound of a locking door echoed through the quiet of the cabin.
         "Now where was I? Ah yes." Picking up where he had left off, Nick continued kissing his way down to the fourth tiny green bow. By the fifth, the soft material was slipping to the floor, pooling at her feet, leaving Tressa standing naked to Nick Banner's hungry eyes.
         "Dear God," he rasped.
         With a flush of heat kissing her cheeks, Tressa stifled a sob, abandoning herself to the whirl of sensation that began as Nick dipped his head to cover and possess her mouth once more. His hand moved to cup one delicate globe, weighing it in his palm, tracing its outline, his thumb teasing a taut peak.
         "I want you, Tressa. God in heaven, I want you." The words were wrenched from his throat.
         He was trembling, she realized, and for what she suspected to be the first time in Nick Banner's hedonistic life, his cool reserve was slipping fast.
         And to think she was the cause. To think-- A moan tore from the back of her throat as Nick dipped his head, his hot mouth replacing his hand on her breast. Savoring the erotic sensation, Tressa's eyes drifted closed as he continued his gentle assault.
         Then he stopped, leaving the cooling air to chill her kiss-dampened flesh. "Listen to me, baby," he grated out, capturing her chin. "If you have any objections to what's about to happen, you'd better speak up now."
         This was Nick, she reminded herself. The time for speaking up had long passed. There was no hesitation as she melted against him, gently lifting her hand to his face in response. Lightly touching his mouth with quivering fingers, she allowed her heated gaze to answer for her.
         Nick captured her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Very well," he said with gentle finality as he set her away from him.
         Heart pounding, knees weakening, Tressa sat down on the edge of the bed, watching as Nick worked the buttons down the front of his shirt, shrugged out of it and tossed it to the floor. In breathless suspense, her gaze slowly dropped from his magnificent face to the wide expanse of his chest--to the hands that were now moving to his belt. A soft clinking of metal became thunder in the silence as he leisurely unbuckled his belt, allowing the ends to dangle loosely from their loops. The sight of him made her feel fluttery inside. Swallowing, she could only stare when he moved to his pants and began flipping open the metal studs--one by one.

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